


sit with you in the trenches

by luminouspoes (rosesmallow)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Sparring, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Romantic Tension, feminine pronouns used
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:00:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29052540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesmallow/pseuds/luminouspoes
Summary: Poe offers to train with the Reader in preparation for an upcoming mission and it ignites their competitive streak.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	sit with you in the trenches

**Author's Note:**

> requested on tumblr: "you gave me a black eye"   
> if you squint the fic kind of covers the prompt? warnings: mentioned past trauma, use of feminine pronouns

“I don’t know about this,” you venture, gnawing on your bottom lip as Poe bounces on his feet across from you. You’re not sure how he’s always so hyper, he doesn’t even drink nearly the same amount of caf as you do. 

“C’mon, Y/N. It’s just to practice for the mission. You’re not gonna hurt me,” he adds with a note of sincerity when you still look worried. You’d been given your next assignment, an undercover one at a seedy fight club. You were a decent fighter, but Poe insisted you get some extra training to be safe before you left.

“Poe - no offense - but you’re a pilot,” you say even as you settle into a fighting stance. “I actually  _ have _ hand to hand combat training. You don’t.”

“Hey, I’ve got one helluva right hook.” Poe retorts, flashing you a confident, excited grin. He  _ really _ doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into, you muse, but decide to humor him.

“Alright, let’s see what you got, flyboy.”

It takes all of five minutes to get him pinned to the mat, your knee on his lower back with his arm twisted loosely behind him. You blow a loose strand of hair out of your face as you breathe out a laugh, chest heaving from exertion. 

“Okay,” Poe wheezes, tapping his hand on the mat. “Do over.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Poe! She’s already wiped the floor with you once.” Snap shouts from one of the benches. Poe twists his head slightly to fix his best friend with an affronted glare.

“She did not wipe the floor with me -”

“Oh yes, she did,” Kare cuts in, leaning across Snap to take some offered fruit from Jess. You duck your head to hide a laugh at their shenanigans as you stand up, offering Poe your hand as he rolls over onto his back, a loud sigh falling from his lips -

And then the next second, he’s sweeping your legs out from underneath you with his own and you hit the floor with a muffled swear. Before you can prop yourself up on your elbows, Poe’s standing over you with a cheeky grin. “Who wiped the floor with whom?”

You throw him a withering glare. “Oh, it’s  _ on _ , flyboy.”

He helps you to your feet, and you go through the motions again - and again, and  _ again.  _ What was supposed to just be a simple training exercise has quickly sparked both of your competitive spirits, and you’re both too stubborn to admit defeat.

While you definitely have the advantage of proper training, there’s no denying Poe is a decent fighter. His movements definitely aren't polished, it’s obvious he’s more comfortable using a blaster in a fight, but he’s better than you initially gauged.

The rest of Black Squadron left the gym a while ago, duty calling them elsewhere on the base, leaving it to just you and Poe. Which you honestly didn’t mind, it was nice having someone to spar with, someone who could keep you on your toes but also make sure you weren’t overdoing it, and the occasional laugh that would rumble out of Poe at a quip you’d thrown at him made your heart do complicated flips that you didn’t want to closely analyze.

“You okay with this assignment?” Poe asks as you circle each other for what feels like the millionth time. You fix him with a hard stare, feinting right, but he’s gotten a feel for your strategies and quickly blocks the punch.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You grunt, using the momentum of the punch he blocked to twist out of his grasp, sliding backward before he can get any ideas to throw one back. You’re avoiding the rancor in the room, and the quirk of his eyebrows tells you he isn’t going to let you.

So what if your last undercover mission went sideways -  _ real  _ sideways. So what if it cost you a dear friend, so what if it left you in the medbay nursing injuries for a week, so what if you woke up screaming in the middle of the night from -

Your attacks become a little more forceful as you remember the smell of ozone thick in the air from blaster fire, the horrific  _ thud  _ of your friend’s body as they were too slow to dodge one, how -

Poe says your name in concern and warning, blocking as many of your moves as he can, even as he quickly backpedals across the gym’s floor, but he’s running out of room and that dazed look still hasn’t left your face.

You throw another punch, and it nearly slips through his defense, but he manages to dodge it just barely. The momentum with which you’d thrown it is enough to send you staggering forward, and Poe uses it as an opportunity to grab your arms and straighten you - simultaneously to keep you from hitting the ground face first and to see if he can snap you out of it.

“Hey,” Poe says, voice rough as he tries to catch his breath, “ _ Y/N _ . It's okay, I've got you.”

The reverie breaks and you blink up into his brown eyes, chest stuttering as you realize what happened. “Shit, I’m - I’m sorry, Poe.” 

“It’s okay,” he soothes, running his hands down your arms to help ground you. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“I could’ve given you a black eye,” you counter, horrified.

“But you  _ didn’t. _ C’mere,” Poe tugs you off the mat, guiding you to an empty corner. You sit down numbly, bracing your head against the stone wall as you catch your breath, eyes slipping close. You hear Poe moving around the room, and when he returns, he gently pokes you with his foot to get your attention.

You pop one eye open to find him offering you some water, which you take gladly. He sits down next to you and begins to unwrap his hands. Eventually, once his hands are bare again and he’s bunched up the wrapping into a ball and set it aside, he glances over at you worriedly. “You sure you’re up for this mission?” 

  
  


When you go rigid, Poe continues quickly, “You’re one of our best fighters, but stuff like this is no joke. I don’t want you to take this mission just so you can - I don’t know, prove you can or something.”

You twist your head to look at him. His dark curls are matted around him in places from sweat and his chest is still heaving, and he looks...oddly more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen him, sitting next to you with only his blue tank top and black sweats on - no uniform, no leather jacket. You can even spy the chain he wears his mother’s wedding ring on easily.

“I don’t know,” you admit softly. “Thinking about going terrifies me, but I can’t just stay grounded forever. If it’s to prove anything, it’s to prove to myself that I can still be the person the Resistance needs me to be, the person I know  _ I  _ am.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Poe sighs and scratches between his eyebrows, thinking. “Do you have to go alone, though?”

“What, do you want to come with me?”

You mean it as a joke, but Poe looks completely serious when he nods. You gawk at him, “It’s too dangerous, you’re -”

He holds up a finger, “Black Squadron and I have run crazier stunts than walking into some seedy fight club on a backwater planet. Besides…” he ducks his head away from you, clears his throat, “I’d prefer it if I could watch your back, make sure you get home safe.”

You study him for a moment, eyes running along his jawline, the worry in his dark eyes, the way he’s drawn his bottom lip into his mouth nervously. You almost surprise yourself when you say, “Alright.”

Poe blinks, swivels his head towards you. “What?”

“You can come,” you say with a shrug. “I think today established you can hold your own in a fight if necessary - if necessary,” you reiterate strongly, “I’ll be the one going into the ring, and I’d prefer knowing that my getaway driver happens to be the best pilot in the Resistance.”

Poe grins and your heart does that curious somersault again. “ _ Deal,  _ besides you know what they say: friends don’t let friends go into fight clubs alone.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head with a laugh, “You’re adorable, Dameron, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Once or twice,” Poe confirms and you swat him on the arm. “It’s the hair, I think.”

“I think it’s probably all of you,” you say, feeling emboldened. You lean into him and press a quick kiss to his cheek - or at least, that’s what you  _ intend  _ to do: instead, he turns his head at the last second, and your lips meet his by accident.

You freeze and rear backward like you’ve been electrified - and maybe you have been because your heart is hammering and your lips are tingling - but whatever you’re about to say dies in your throat at the soft, dazed smile on his face.

You can’t stop the smile from spreading across your face, too. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Poe asks, eyes sweeping down from yours to your lips.

“You wouldn’t have to twist my arm,” you confirm, as he cups your cheek. 

Just before he presses his lips to yours he mumbles, “No, no, you did that to me earlier, remember?”

He captures your laugh with his mouth.

  
  
  



End file.
